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Monday, September 14, 2015

Reno: Land of Meth and Depression

Reno might have a nice area where people are happy, but where I am life is all meth and sadness. I'm sorry to put it that way. Looking out the window of my RV today I see people stumbling around with no teeth and covered in scabs. I saw the guy next to me crying over his RV because he's been kicked out for not paying and can't get his battery to hold a charge. And then I'm reminded that we only got a spot here when they kicked out another destitute deadbeat who had only been allowed to stay because no one else wanted his spot. Until we came.

It's not about me, obviously. I will leave at the end of the month with a strong notation in the travel log to NOT STAY IN RENO. Sparks, yes. In fact there was a much nicer park on the Truckee river that I wish we had gotten a space in. It was only $50 more a month than here. Carson City, hell yes. My mom found an awesome doctor there that we are going to make an effort to keep as her PCP. But Reno...no. Reno is a bad scene.

I really thought Reno was nice. I was a guest at a convention here some years ago and got a great impression. My mother was a delegate for Hillary Clinton and came to Reno some years ago and also said she loved it. I don't know if we both had blinders on, or were just in the right area, but it's a much different city to us now.

I was so high on my freedom from Thousand Trails that I tried to delude myself into thinking that this switch to urban camping was a glorious new chapter. It may well be, but I started out in the wrong city. We've gambled. We've gone to a museum. We've tried to be happy here, but the depression around us hangs like molten lead clouds. You see people walking around in their underwear because they no longer care. People living in tiny TINY trailers that you can't stand up in. And little kids trying to play in spots that are so crowded we can't open the car door without hitting the RV steps. I finally admitted it today. This place is depressing.